Flash
by House O' Bones
Summary: A myth is something that people don't usually believe in and probably would never see, which one Jack Frost believes in much too firmly for 265 years since that day. Subdued, afraid, and severely socially inept, what's a young spirit to do when the title of Guardian is placed heavily upon his shoulders?
1. Chapter 1

_I've recently been watching some pretty messed up movies and re-watching RotG. It also kinda doesn't help that I've also been happening to read some Jack Frost whump and JackRabbit fluff fics. _

_I think my brain finally fried itself with all the cuteness and awesomeness that is Jack freakin' Frost. _

I do not own Rise of the Guardians and probably never will.

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><p>1<p>

Pale fingers splayed before a thin, hooded figure as a shepherd's staff stuck itself into the dry soil of a forest and shone vibrantly with power. Pulsating and frantic whispers sounded through the cold, autumn air as the temperature dropped significantly in the few minutes that passed. The hooded individual dared not shift in fear of ruining the precious, time-consuming process. Clouds shifted and wind howled in rejoice. Flurries of snow floated from above and landed delicately in mounds soon to multiply and consume the dry soil till nothing else could be seen other than white. Minutes passed and the figure collapsed forward wordlessly onto his torn knees, bare feet digging into snow and gasping for air. The staff sprung up from its place and glided towards its shepherd. A pale hand shot out from the confines of its home in the large cape to grab firmly onto its handle. A grunt came from the hooded individual and a contented sigh came forth from equally pale lips. North and South Wind danced around the spirit in joy.

"_Play."_

"_Where go, where go."_

"_Let us play, young one."_

"_I must go, hurry, hurry. Where!"_

"_Yes, yes! The children. Let's play with the children."_

"_Where go, little one?"_

"_No more sad faces on little ones. No sad, please."_

Faint, raspy whispers floated into his hearing and waited patiently for them to pause in their discussion. Pale lips mouthed his answer in the direction of the South Wind, who watched carefully for the instructions. South Wind roared back in annoyance. The figure panted in exhaustion of dispelling his power but shook his hooded head. South Wind sighed it's defeat and left towards the Caribbean to spread heat to its people. North Wind continued to dance around the spirit in excitement, awaiting the other's answer. The hooded head tilted slightly, shadowing the individual's features even further. The voice paused in their planning to await a response from the 'young one'.

"_Shall we play, young one?"_

"_Play?"_

The head tilted back to an upright position, a hand rose to tug at the worn, drawstring of his cape as if he were contemplating the frantic pleas before nodding his head in agreement. The Wind gave a howl of approval.

"_Let us finish our job first. I do not want to leave the children without some snow."_, he whispered._ Or Fun_, the figure mused. The Northern Wind gave a howl of approval.

"_Of course."_

The figure stood from his kneeling position, wiping his worn, tan pants free of excess snow and straightened up not long after. His hand returned to tugging the hood of his cape to prevent the torrents of wind from blowing it back. Pristine white hair fluttered out slightly from behind it before settling back in its cave of protection. The boy's concealed form lifted itself with the assistance of the Northern Wind, staff held out and pointing in their direction of travel.

Snow traveled along his path in mounds, covering whatever pieces of dry soil that remained. A slow smile graced his pale lips as the echoes of children's gasps of surprise and excitement made themselves evident as he passed over rooftops. He slowed his pace to watch youngsters filter from their front doors with snow boots, layers of jackets and sweaters, mittens, scarves wound snuggly, and wool beanies or ear muffs to protect from the cold. Snow sleds and blown up, donut-shaped sleds in hands to the nearest and largest mountain of snow they could find. The concealed figure's stiff shoulders melted in relief and relished in the children's squeals of joy and laughter.

Swooping down towards the closest pack of children, he kneeled down and placed his hands onto top of the cooling water of the small pond. Water froze over in seconds of touching its surface, electing a surprised gasp from the brunette of the pack. Grabbing his staff, the spirit froze of the pond's first layer and then the second to stabilize it. He sighed contently as he stared at the ice, no one was going to get hurt this time around. Not on his watch. North Wind nipped at his cheek in urgency.

"_Let us play." _The young spirit nodded and stood back up, his staff helping him stay upright. His hand formed a snowball in seconds and as he inclined his head in the direction the closest children had gone off too. A lone child was standing off to the side watching the other children building snowmen and sledding, a frown marring her cherub features. Pale lips that had once been upturned in a small smile, frowned briefly before smirking. Arm raised, a small tongue stuck out comically from the side of his mouth, he aimed and fired.

The snowball reached its target, silence followed after as the other children paused in their games to watch the little girl blink owlishly with snow sticking to the right side of her face and hair. Expecting the girl to turn red with rage and give chase, they tensed as her lips twisted in indecision. A giggle followed soon after by full blown laughter burst forth from the girl as she bent over with her arms clinging to her stomach in vain. The other children joined in and ushered her over to join in their new game, a snowball fight. The spirit's concealed form portrayed glee at the success of his plan and fired more snowballs into the mix of the chaos.

Everyone must have Fun.

And no one was going to be miserable and boring as long as Jack Frost, the Spirit of Winter, was on the watch.

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><p>"The new Guardian is gonna be this guy? Jack Frost, the guy who ruined Easter of '68?" E. Aster Bunnymund stared incredulously at the Globe and then back at out the window towards the moon. Man in the Moon must have finally lost his marbles, he reasoned to himself. That was the only plausible reason for this mix-up, this mistake. A feathered woman leaned back in her seat across from the table they situated before the Globe and quirked a brow questioningly at the Pooka.<p>

"Of course, Aster. Don't judge him for the past. You have yet to meet Jack Frost. Even so, when the Blizzard of '68 occurred, he was never present.", Toothiana replied. Aster furrowed his brows and crossed his arms. True, but he still blamed the spirit. Frost was the only one with the power to command the season of winter and sprites did not have the ability to control winter to that same degree of Frost as far as he knew. His googies had also reported seeing a hooded figure with white hair and using his staff to trudge through the snow that same day. A large Russian man made his way toward them with two mugs of hot chocolate and a third mug being carried by a yeti.

"No one has ever met the lad before, Toothiana. I'm not very surprised Aster never met him at the scene. Jack never stays in one place long enough for others to catch him.", Nicholas St. North stated. He placed their mugs down onto the coffee table and watched as the concealed figure of Jack Frost trudge through the snow with the aid of his staff carefully.

"I don't believe a tiny, old man like 'im will be able to help us stop that blasted Pitch Black.", Aster grumbled. Nicholas St. North frowned as he continued to watch the Globe's 'broadcast', the thought of Jack Frost's true age had never come to light before. Everyone who has so far reported the usual mischief and havoc the winter spirit would always leave in his wake was an old man. A figure hunched over protectively from the torrents of fierce wind threatening to blow him over and the only pale appendage holding his possession in a tight grip, using it as leverage. But he wasn't one to particularly believe rumors concerning the winter spirit to be true. Especially the one that a cruel sprite decided to spread about the boy deliberately sneaking into Nicholas' workshop to damage the new designs of toys they had been working on.

It was later proven to be the result of a brawl between two male elves over a rather pretty female elf.

"No, not an old man. A young man, _da_.", the Russian shot back. He pointed towards his new finding and ushered the Pooka and Tooth Fairy over to see. A large, plump index finger traced the picture of the spirit's hand holding the staff.

"You see, no wrinkles evident on skin." Toothiana nodded towards Nicholas in acknowledgement. The Easter Bunny snorted as he turned his head away from the sight and took a sip from his mug.

"Even so, it still doesn't prove anything other than the fact he won't be able to help much with Pitch.", he retorted. Nicholas sighed and shook his head, beard following with the movement. This Jack Frost may surprise them. The Russian took the third mug from the yeti and nodded politely in his direction.

"You may return to your work. Thank you, Phil." The yeti, Phil, grunted as he made his way to his station in the workshop. A window groaned open from across the room as a body of sand flowed in gracefully towards the group. Sandman beamed brightly towards his comrades and waved to them in greeting.

"Welcome back! How did your errands go, Sandy?", Tooth asked eagerly. The smallest Guardian formed images above his head with sand, a sand child sleeping contently with a smile and another child with a grin. A sand check mark was soon followed after the two children.

"Great as always, huh? Well, one of my fairies ran into a boy with a broken tooth! Can you believe that? I paid that dentist a visit personally.", she replied. Sandy winced in sympathy for the dentist, he had been ambushed by a nightmare of the tooth fairy that the Nightmare King had crafted in amusement. It was actually quite comical in its own way before he had soothed it away with dreams of the woman's husband and children. Sandy shook his head at the Tooth Fairy in amusement, electing a giggle from her. The Guardian of Dreams turned toward the other two males of the 'Big Four' with the image of a clock and himself running forming above his head.

"No worries, mate. We know you have a schedule to keep.", Aster replied.

"Yes, dear friend. Don't fret over being late. Manny has just informed us of a new addition to our cause.", Nicholas said. The Russian inclined his head towards the Globe and the image of Jack Frost. Sandman swooped down towards the image in excitement with images rapidly changing too fast for them to interpret.

"Woah, woah, woah! Wait a minute! You've met this guy!", Aster cried incredulously. Nicholas' eyes widened in surprise and Toothiana sat up in her seat, hot chocolate forgotten as they stared at the beaming Guardian. Sandman nodded eagerly, images of himself of the hooded figure with his staff floating beside himself atop his cloud of sand running his errands. Sand 'Jack Frost' hunched slightly in wariness of the sand Guardian then tilting his head in confusion as Sandy beckoned him over.

"Ah….I see. That was nice of you.", Toothiana said. Sandy nodded happily at the female.

"Look, let's just get this whole thing over with and nab him.", Aster muttered. Nicholas caught the dialogue and threw his head back and laughed. He rubbed his stomach as he stared at the Easter Bunny in amusement.

"You can't catch ol' Jack, it's impossible! Never been caught since his first appearance three hundred years ago!", Nicholas challenged. Aster could never back down from a challenge given to the Pooka, especially from good ol' Saint Nick.

"That's rubbish, ah course I can! I'm the freakin' Easter Bunny!", the Pooka retorted. Aster marched towards the first yeti he saw and recognized among the rest of them. Taking a final chug of his mug of hot chocolate, he cupped the side of his mouth with a single paw as he placed it atop the head of a passing elf, Dingle, if he recalled correctly.

"Phil, get me that blasted North's sack and a yeti! I gotta winter spirit tah catch!", he bellowed. The Pooka heard the distinct groan of annoyance from the yeti as he moved away from his station towards the Guardian of Wonder's office and snatching the closest, unavailable yeti in his path.

This, Phil knew, was going to be one hell of a kidnapping.

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><p><em>AN: I couldn't replicate Aster's 'Aussi-ness". I probably would've butchered it anyways. _


	2. Chapter 2

_I apologize for the long wait, but my schedules been hectic and for those following my other story 'Dearly Beloved' than you may say otherwise. Well...I had already written up its' sixth chapter and merely needed to tweak it up and 'Flash...well...let's just say I got a bit lazy...(Please excuse my switch from cape to cloak because really, to me, they're the same and my mind still cannot compute this information and file it away correctly.) _

_Thank you for the favorites, follows, and reviews!_

_I do not own ROTG._

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><p>2<p>

A young brunette glanced up from his perch at the edge of his bed as paranoia began to settle uncomfortably in his stomach. The boy's gaze shifted rapidly around the room, scanning for anything in his peripheral vision. He edged back up his mattress and progressively making his way to his nightstand. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, attempting to keep his rapidly beating heart from bursting out of his chest. The howled viciously and lashed at his window. It rattled harshly in response to the abuse before the winds harsh howls descended into far away moans. The boy couldn't help but jump at the sudden break of silence that had previously befallen his room.

"Oh geeze," the boy hissed. The brunette shook his head in an attempt to shake off the odd occurrence. He jumped from the safety of his bed and hid behind the furniture as to shield his body. His heart merely exhilarated in response to the adrenaline high he was experiencing. Beating like a mile a minute-

Tic.

Tic. Tic.

Tic.

Tic. Tic. Tic.

"Wh-Whose there?!" he exclaimed.

There was no reply.

Tic.

Tic.

Tic.

"I said 'whose there'?!" he repeated.

Still, nothing.

Tic.

"Huh?" The brunette's eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched in an endearing manner as the 'tic-tic' continued to permeate through the room. Curiosity sparked in his warm bronze colored irises as he cocked his head to the side, eagerly listening to the strange sound.

Tic.

"Hello?"

No reply.

"Hello?" he said it a little louder.

Tic.

"Huh?" His gaze settled on the window that had previously been abused by the winds hellish lashes earlier. The brunette immediately grabbed the nearest object his hands could grab onto and cautiously made his way over. A book was gripped tightly in his small, pale hands; it was about the myths and legends (third edition) from the Burgess' local library. It was due next week.

_Huuh…._

_Sh….._

The brunette boy yelped in surprise and shivered as frosty air came over him in an instant and felt his ear burn slightly from the uncalled for action. He turned to look for the source of the sound, meeting nothing he turned in the direction of his window in wonder as frost began to form along the sides and collect rapidly onto the window pane. He shuffled closer till he was inches away from the little phenomenon. The boy exhaled shakily as he watched the frost form intricate patterns and then the beginning of words.

_Hel-_

"Jaime! It's time for dinner! Get down here, this is the third time that I've been trying to call you down!" the boy's mother yelled from the staircase. The brunette's head snapped sharply in the direction of the room's exit and groaned in irritation.

"I'll be down in a minute!"

"A minute to you is like an hour, Jaime. Now get down here, young man, or your food is going to cold!" The boy, Jaime sighed in exasperation in the direction of his room's door to return to the pattern on his window. He blinked once, twice, then a third time and rubbed his eyes of any invaders such as dust or sand. He raised his hand and traced his finger along the window pane in wonder and cocked his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"How..? It was here just a minute ago…."

It was gone.

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><p>The cloaked figure of Jack Frost huddled behind the tree before the young boy's window wasn't an unusual sight for the Wind. The albino spirit shuddered as he waited patiently for the brunette child's gaze to lift from his location, he could only sigh in relief when the child left the room as the child yelled back down to his mother that he was on his way. Jack never knew why he seemed to enjoy messing with the young Bennett boy and his younger sister. He supposed it was due to being two of the six children that tended to hang around his lake during the season he was awake.<p>

Although, he tended to merely draw patterns that resembled bunnies and flowers for the girl rather than scaring her (unintentionally—mind you) out of her wits like her brother. But then again, he never really attempted to interact with the other children the way he has been as of recent with these two. He just felt-

He needed to stop.

The winter spirit tugged at his cloak's hood and adjusted its' clasp to protect his old clothing from the Wind's rough housing. They were falling apart at the moment and he really wished the frost securing the tattered articles of the colonial era clothing would hold up a bit more. It's been three hundred years since acquiring them.

"Let's have 'Fun', shall we, "he whispered. The Wind roared with delight and caressed the spirit's cheek in gratitude. The teen could only chuckle and bring his staff closer to him as the Wind embraced its' companion and lifted off without trouble. Jack's hold on his staff tightened upon relax, he shuddered upon recalling the time he had recklessly loosened his grip on his only other possession when traveling above Russia. He had torn the forests apart searching for his staff before breaking down in tears of relief right then and there. The Winter Spirit glanced down below him and smiled wistfully and he splayed his hand before him, his own magic and the Wind complied to swirl gently down below. He felt his long-time friend ruffle his pristine white hair in confusion.

"Just a little lighter, so the children can play again with us tomorrow—right when they get back from school," Jack responded to the Wind's question. He gave a final brush of his hand across the plane and hummed in satisfaction. Sapphire irises swept around the snow laden land and dulled in resignation, it still looked the same. Empty. Desolate. A wasteland—

"H—hey, quit that!"

The Winter Spirit's head snapped over in the direction of the shout, eyes wide with terror and confusion as he spotted two Yetis and something else huddled down in the alleyways of Burgess' local warehouse store. His grip on his staff tightened a fraction. He made his way down cautiously toward the group and shushed the Wind in an attempt to quiet their panicked and frantic whispers.

_"No—"_

_"Go—"_

_"No more—"_

_"Child, no hurt—"_

"I told ya that I ain't gonna where those!", the thing cried out in annoyance. The two yetis appeared to be holding slippers of some sort for the other. Jack relaxed somewhat, he had thought the yell had come from a victim of robbery of some sort. It wasn't often something like that would happen around here. The Winter Spirit kept himself at a safe distance from the little group and eyed the armed…kangaroo-thing…warily. The kangaroo-thing suddenly became alert as his ears swiveled to and fro in comical fashion before snapping his head in Jack's direction. The Winter Spirit flinched in response.

"So…you're the 'chosen one' ain't cha?", it asked; its' tone bordering hostility and dripping with sarcasm. Something that the human's generation seem to be using quite frequently, know that Jack thought about it. Jack tugged at the hood of his cloak as its' emerald eyes seemed to pierce through the security of his clothing. He tilted his head in confusion, not trusting himself to speak. Jack hunched in on himself and tightened his grip on his staff as he stepped back in wariness. He could feel the 'fuzzy things' in the pit of his stomach flutter unpleasantly and his chest pang.

He didn't like this. This thing was scaring him with that intense stare filled with—

Distaste.

Disgust.

Jack lowered his head, the hood of his cloak shadowing his features and stared unseeingly at the snow covered concrete of the alleyway. He really didn't like this. He didn't like the thing, his tall, scary yeti companions, or the burning sensation spreading from his eyes, the tip of his nose and upper lip.

Nor the slight tremble in his left hand, concealed beneath the safety of his 'shield'.

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><p>Aster hadn't anticipated for the little runt to come here on his own or even reveal himself so easily. It irked Aster. His god damned cloak, his bloody shepherds' staff, and even his hair got under his skin. But he needed to calm down as best as he could in this situation. He really didn't need this to end in the little brat escaping and the rest of the Guardians laughing at his failure in retrieving (read: capturing) their new member (or, 'a nice ornament to go with the complete set of the Winter Season's Honorary Annoyances', in his opinion).<p>

Failure was not an option; no matter how stupid the task.

Because, he was the Easter Bunny; and you bet his googies that he'd do a mighty fine job at this new, albeit ridiculous, mission.

"Been a while, ya know. Blizzard of '68, ring any bells? If not, then let me introduce myself. The name's E. Aster Bunnymund and I'm the Easter Bunny," he began. Aster kept his eyes trained on the other, attempting to read his body language. Tense shoulders, a pale fist adjusting its position to accommodate for his next move, his head bowed as if in thought; Aster gritted his teeth. This wasn't good. He turned his head slightly in the direction of the two Yetis, Phil and Carl. Both Yetis looked just as uncertain as he felt at the moment. But their eyes told a different story; take action now or we'll never go through with this with. He stepped forward the tiniest bit—

-And he cursed.

"Ah!" Jack Frost gasped in fright as the Yetis took charge armed with North's magical sack. The new Guardian snapped his head up so fast that it had Aster reeling back with a wince and his own emerald irises widened in shock as they took in fine detail of the glimpse he had caught of the runt. Icy sapphire burning with shame and terror, tears unwilling to be shed, pale cheeks frosted over and light gray circles around his eyes.

In that one moment, Aster was sure that he had just met a dead man.

He blinked in what seemed like minutes after to see the hood back in place, hiding the runt's face and the spirit dissolve into a flurry of snow. He sniffed the air and nodded toward his companions. The Yetis nodded back. Aster raced after Frost's scent, determined to drag him back to Santoff Claussen and rub it in North's face afterwards for catching the so called 'Invincible Jack Frost'. He could reflect on that little moment later, at a more convenient time when he wasn't hunting down some little punk who had ruined his holiday back in '68.

_But, MiM, he was so young. _

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><p><em>AN: Screw cannon, let's make it longer. *cough* _

_I want to experiment like the mad little scientist I am and see how cannon!ROTG works with my AU!Jack. Hooray for fan fiction and the beautiful, beautiful readers out there willing to read my (babies) stories._


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